Quill & Parchment: Processional

Processional
(inspired by the poem Procession by flor de té)
by David Slavin

rain falls in that town on this day
I see the color of my daughter's eyes
the sky composing blues out of gray

her old Ford and I have lost our way
lost beneath grieving skies
rain falls in that town on every day

we move on in fog we have strayed
wipers chant heavy drops beat down then stagger by
the sky composing blues out of gray

I am looking for a flower a singular bouquet
somewhere among the lady's thousand orchids it lies
in rain that falls in that town on this day

I am looking for a color between sadness and dismay
I kneel down to clutch cymbidium and arise
its petals composing blues out of gray

I pin the flower in my daughter's hair that plays
by her eyes no lake was as blue or still as her eyes
rain falls in that town on this day
the sky composing blues out of gray

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